Portland Ghostbusters
by The Smash Artist
Summary: 2005. When phantoms, spectres, and poltergeists threaten the cozy little city of Portland, Oregon, an out of work 23 year old college grad and his best buddy set up shop as Ghostbusters. Their skills are soon tested against a demigod of endless winter.
1. Official Disclaimer

Disclaimer:

All official equipment, vehicles, no-ghost logo, and such terms are property of Columbia Pictures and the amazing creation of Aykroyd, Ramis, and Moranis. All I own are the original characters I created, and the themes and devices of the story's plot. But I'm sure you knew that…


	2. Chapter 1

Ch. 1

"And next up on KOTK Channel 5 news, you are not going to believe this, but a ghost was seen in an apartment building in Northwest Portland actually earlier this evening. One tenant living on the second floor reported feeling a cold presence in his bathroom before turning around to a transparent corpse apparition. And for more we go to Ken Schmidt. Ken…"

"Thank you, Terri. I am standing here outside the Fairmount Apartments with Officer Frank Gatti, one of the officers that came to investigate. So apparently you were sent out here to investigate after the dispatch board was swamped with calls all reporting the same thing?"

"Yes, that's right. Roughly half the tenants on the second floor reported seeing a transparent man with bright red eyes, looking just like a zombie out of a fright flick. When I got to the place there were several apartments in disarray, some tenants in shock and some injured. Security cameras in the hallways actually caught a drawer fly out of a room and down the main hallway. I actually came face to face with another one, a smelly blob-like thing that growled at me. I tried firing my revolver at the thing, but the bullets just passed right through. The blob then chased me down the hallway much like an angry dog. I ducked around the corner and looked back and nothing was there. None of us knows exactly what to do about the situation."

"Well, there you have it. Ambulance crews have arrived and are tending to the injured tenants and those who are in shock from the sighting. Police have actually quarantined off the building until they can figure out what happened. Back to you Terri."

"I can hardly believe it myself. KOTK 5 news will try to get a follow-up on the eleven o'clock news broadcast. And next up, we have the weather…"

Scott cannot tear himself away from the television after hearing such a news report. The twenty-three-year-old college graduate sits staring at his buddy Phil's television. The smell of pasta and tomato sauce drifts into the living room, darting his attention for just a minute.

"Hey Phil, come check this out. There was actually a live documented report of a malevolent inhuman spirit. It terrorized some apartment building downtown. The story was just on the news a minute ago."

The large, boyish-looking metal fan comes quickly from the kitchen, barely able to believe what he'd heard. "What? Something actually made the news! I've seen a few ghosts when I worked as a janitor but never anything this drastic. So what happened?"

Scott replies: "Apparently there were two ghosts spotted on the second floor of the Fairmount Apartments over in Northwest Portland. One of them was a transparent apparition with red eyes and the other was a small smelly blob. The blob attacked a cop."

Phil states, "That building is one of the buildings in Portland that has had quite a reputation of ghosts over the years. There have been a lot of things going on lately. Earlier this week I read a couple of articles in the paper about sightings like that one."

Phil and Scott had been good friends for a couple years. Both share common interests in heavy music and paranormal occurrences. And like Scott, Phil happens to be out of work, having quit his job at an area newspaper a while ago.

"I was playing around on the web the other day, when I found the website of the Ghostbusters of New York City: the originals. Drs. Ray Stantz and Egon Spengler were offering to help people in other cities start up Ghostbusters franchises. I can put my Bachelor's in Business to use, and you can handle the equipment side of things. C'mon, it'll be great! We can be our own bosses, live in an old firehouse, drive around in a teched-out Caddy ambulance, and get famous!"

"We could," replies Phil, "but it would take whole helluva' lot of money to start."

"Let's find out," says Scott as he sits down at the computer, "okay, Ghostbusters-dot-com, here we go…"

The web site displays the images of the Ghostbusters as well as some of their more famous busts, like the battle with Gozer the Gozarian, and a store with themed merchandise. He finds the franchising page. It reads:

If you wish to start your own Ghostbusters franchise in your city or town, we're here to help! To start off you will need:

_1) $100,000 investment_

_2) Proper building—a firehouse, warehouse, or old school building._

_3) Positive Attitude_

_Write or e-mail us at to establish a correspondence and we'll send you the necessary information in a packet in the mail. Happy busting!_

Phil asks, "do you have any idea where we're going to get one hundred thousand dollars to fund this thing? I don't have that much money in my account or my trust fund… why are you looking at me like that?"

Scott seems lost in thought as he speaks: "Trust fund… there's bound to be a lot of money…"

"Whoa! No way! Unh-uh! We are not taking from my trust fund for this franchise! I know you. You'll end up cleaning me out. And for an enterprise that might fail. You don't yet have any real-world business experience."

"C'mon Phil, there are generous government grants out there. We can shoot for a seventy-five-thousand-dollar grant by establishing that there is _need_ for our franchise. We can do that by sending them police photos of the recent regional hauntings. I have an old friend who works in the archives department of the Portland Police Bureau and he can get us copies of the photos. Then you'd only have to put up a teeny-tiny portion of your trust fund."

"I'd hardly call twenty-five-thousand dollars teeny."

"But we'd earn it all back eventually. Ghostbusting fees are not small. Besides, think about it. You're always trying to find ways to get in shape. Running around with a twenty pound nuclear accelerator on your back all the time is a great way to drop excess pounds. And think of the fame and privilege we'll get: free dinners at four-star restaurants for getting rid of gluttonous apparitions; crowds of people asking for your autograph after catching the 'phantom of the theatre'; the endless parapsychological research opportunities. And I'll bet I could get a private grant as well."

Phil is trying to say no, but the marvel in his eyes betrays him. "Damnit! Fine, we'll try it, but you'd better recoup all the money you borrow from my trust fund."

And so Scott e-mails the Ghostbusters and two weeks later at Phil's mailbox arrives a packet containing detailed instructions for building proton packs, ghost traps, psychokinetic energy meters, ecto-visors, a laser containment unit, and the roof equipment for a car, as well as tips and tricks for efficient ghost catching. Scott and Phil send the necessary photos and receive the seventy-five-thousand-dollar government grant as well as a fifteen-thousand-dollar small business grant from a local bank. They need only ten-thousand-dollars from Phil's trust fund—initially. Scott again talks Phil into using his trust fund to cover equipment costs. Surprisingly the total bill for the necessary supplies amounts to just four thousand dollars.

They find a suitable firehouse in town: a vacant two-story firehouse on Southeast Seventh Avenue between Harrison and Clay Streets. They have a small basement built to hold the laser containment unit. They even have the fire pole restored. For the laser containment unit, Scott has his computer-whiz friend Sung program the system and install the software from the packet.

"I found the car! I went to a chop shop and found this… a 1975 Superior Cadillac Ambulance. It had been decommissioned by the local ambulance company and was waiting to be stripped and crushed. It only needs a little brake work, some replacement shocks, an oil change, and a new muffler; Plus, a paint job and our modifications. I'll cover this one. My brother is a bit of a mechanic and could easily do the work," states Scott.

Soon their car is ready. The car shines white, with the classic "no-ghost" logo on both front doors. The ghost-tracking and ghost-fighting technology is installed on the roof, and a blue flasher bar replaces the old single red flasher. The siren is drop-tuned to a low moan instead of the normal wail. The rear fenders are painted red stretching from the back doors to the taillights. The license plates read "Ecto-A".

Next came the proton packs. "I was thinking, says Phil, "we should redesign the packs slightly. On this old design, some clever creature could sneak around behind us, pull out some of the wires, and render our weapons useless. The cyclotron would still be the same, as would the generators at the top of the pack. But the middle of the pack would have the wires and tubes encased in metal; sort of like a calculator cover."

"Good thinking. While we're at it, let's angle the neutrona wand handles just a little so they are easier to lift off the pack holsters. And build an additional holster on the opposite side of the pack to hold empty ghost traps."

So four proton packs are built according to the modifications. They are sleeker and more streamlined than the old clunky packs. The neutrona wand guns feel more like true firearms in grip. To accompany the four proton packs, they build sixteen ghost traps, four psychokinetic energy meters, four ecto-visors, and one spectranolyzer—for properly analyzing digital photographs of ghosts. They also purchase several pairs of tan-colored flight suits from an online uniform shop, and several pairs of military boots from the army surplus store.

Phil and Scott put in a week of sixteen-hour-days to get things up and running. At long last, the no-ghost sign on the front of the firehouse lights up, indicating that Portland Ghostbusters are open for business.

Scott had sent e-mail to the original Ghostbusters to inform them that the Portland franchise was almost open. Dr. Ray Stantz agrees to fly out to help commission the new place and give some guidance and pointers. He arrives within forty-eight hours of the message. That first night they hold a small party—using up the last of their petty cash.

To attract business, they had put out a quick ad in the newspaper, and paid for a fifteen-second local commercial. They do not have to wait long for the first call; the following morning, in fact.

At roughly nine o'clock in the morning the phone rings. Scott answers, "Ghostbusters, you spy 'em we fry 'em."

"Hello. I am Mr. Wills, owner of the White Eagle Tavern. Maybe you know this, but our place has had a reputation of being haunted. Well there is this one spirit that in the past liked to touch and push people. Please don't think I'm crazy…"

"Naah; of course not. We handle malevolent inhuman spirits all the time."

"But this thing—this malevolent spirit—has just recently started throwing glasses, plates, and silverware at both employees and our patrons. Last night it scared away all my business. In the past we could live with the mostly harmless things it did, but now it's so bad that it has to go. It damn near killed me with a fork early this morning!"

"That's what we're here for. Just give me your address and we'll be right out. Thank you for calling!"

Dr. Stantz and Phil happen to be within earshot of the phone call and hear everything. Scott writes down the address, and looks up to ring the fire bell only to find both men staring at him like children on Christmas morning.

"This is great!" Says Stantz. "I've always wanted to experience a major phantom in another town!"

"No kidding," says Phil. "It's going to be awesome to take down our first northwest ghost."

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's roll!" barks Scott.

Scott and Phil run over to the two lockers containing their suits and equipment, while Stantz goes to his suitcase for his jumpsuit and then takes a spare proton pack. The firehouse doors slam open, and out speeds Ecto-A, sirens blaring, as they pull northbound onto Seventh Avenue, stopping all traffic they pass. While in the car, Dr. Stantz looks over their equipment, and explains a little bit about the gear. He is quite surprised to find the design variation of the packs.

"These packs don't look like the ones in the instruction packet. What gives?" asks Stantz.

"Well," responds Scott, "We decided to reroute a few tubes and wires, and move some of the vents, and then build a cover over the whole thing. Phil brought up the idea that some clever ghoul or monster might be able to pull out some of the wires if they weren't protected. Also you never know when one of us might back up and catch a wire on something. This prevents that from happening."

"I like your thinking," comments Stantz. "So would Dr. Venkman. He'd say, 'Initiative like that will bring success and women.' But will they work?"

Phil responds, "They should. We didn't change the basic design. We simply rerouted a few things."

A thought causes Scott slow the car down a bit. "You know, we haven't yet had a test of our equipment. It all 'should' work but we really don't know."

"It looks like we'll find out soon enough," says Phil, as the Caddy ambulance pulls up curbside of the White Eagle Tavern.

It is morning and the tavern is closed. The Ghostbusters have to knock on the door to get Mr. Wills to open up. They greet him and ask him where the spook was last seen.

"It was last found to be in the area of the old 'whites-only' brothel upstairs but it has also recently been sighted throwing toilet paper in the women's restroom on this floor," says Mr. Wills.

"Well boys let's bag this sucker and go home," says Dr. Stantz.

Phil puts on an ecto-visor while Scott activates a PKE meter, and they find several entities floating around, the strongest coming from upstairs in the old brothel. All three guys ascend the staircase and charge up their guns.

The whole area is fairly dark, even with light pouring in from a window at the end of the hall. They notice a thin layer of dust on everything and the smell of old wood permeates the air. The sudden flickering of the PKE meter arms interrupts the eerie silence, telling the cautious hunters that their prey is directly ahead. Suddenly, an old vase comes flying at Phil, making him duck. Scott gets the vase right in the ribs. The impact doubles him over.

"The second rule of ghost-busting," whispers Dr. Stantz, "is to lookout for mean ghosts throwing things."

"Noted," winces Scott as he gets back to his feet. "This dumb-ass ghost is going to get it good."

Just then a growling transparent apparition sails right toward them. Phil fires at it out of surprise, and sends a streak of flame across a locked brothel door.The spirit turns and vapors through the floor.

"Be careful with those things," chides Stantz. "They're not laser guns. They generate a concentrated stream of atomic fire, capable of burning plants, animals, and anything made of wood, plastic, or low-grade metal! Don't ever fire one near any of your teammates or at any living thing, except in an extreme emergency! You guys have to get used to controlling the direction of the beam as well. It's something like controlling a small fire hose. Direct it instead of firing it. And never ever cross the streams!"

"Now even I know that one," states Phil. "What about you, Scott?"

Both men look around to find their third teammate nowhere in sight. Phil's walkie-talkie activates, startling both men.

"I've tracked it down here into the women's restroom on the second floor. It hasn't noticed me here yet. It's transparent, dressed in women's clothing from the 1890s. It's hair is done up in a bun. It has no eyeballs and only part of a nose. Its mouth is deformed into a sick grin. What an ugly phantom!"

Dr. Stantz states, "don't try to bag this one on your own. The first rule of ghostbusting is to never go alone. Wait for us to get down there."

The sound of proton fire interrupts the transmission. "Crap! It saw me and grabbed me!" shouts Scott, "I'm going to try to wrestle free--" The walkie-talkie transmission ends abruptly. The other two Ghostbusters charge downstairs toward the women's restroom only to be greeted by a flying phantom in the restroom hallway, which startles them. A few seconds later, Scott wanders out. His head is completely soaked, water dripping onto the collar of his uniform, and he wears the expression of an angered feline.

"Will somebody please get me a towel? First, this thing throws a vase at me and now it decides to be juvenile, stick my head in the toilet, and give me a swirlie," snarls Scott.

By now his dear friend is doubled over laughing at him. Even Stantz is chuckling. "You… got… a swirlie… from… a… ghost?" gasps Phil, before breaking into another fit of laughter.

But the sound of Mr. Wills' voice from the main tavern brings all three men to attention. "Help! This thing has me cornered! It's throwing glasses at me every time I try to move!"

"So what do we do?" Scott asks Phil and Dr. Stantz. "Every time we get near this ghost it runs away from us. It's like the ghost knows we're a threat."

"It's up to you guys to figure out how to catch it," states Stantz. "This is your business. I'm just along for the ride and to give a few pointers. I won't be around forever."

Phil thinks for a minute and says, "If we can keep it from leaving the main room, we'll be able to get it. But how do we do that?"

Scott continues, "In the bathroom, this ghost got mad at me when I touched its toilet paper. I tried to move the toilet paper because I didn't want to light it on fire and burn down the bathroom. Maybe if one of us sneaks up and ties string around the glasses, we'll be able to distract the ghost long enough to catch it by pulling the glasses around on the bar top."

"And as an insurance policy, let's lay down a couple traps around the perimeter of the tavern area," continues Phil.

"Dr. Stantz, please hide in the corner near the staircase," asks Scott. "If the ghost takes off toward the brothel, shoot it. And if you would, please be ready with the traps. And somebody get me a towel."

Dr. Ray Stantz smiles with approval, as the Ghostbusters put the plan into action. They are able to find some string in a drawer near the register at the bottom of the old staircase. Stantz sets ghost traps around the perimeter of the tavern, and hides in the corner, ready to shoot a fleeing ghost. The ghost goes to grab for another glass only to watch it move. The apparition circles the glass once or twice like an angry hornet before attempting to grab it again. The entity is not at all ready for the Proton stream that envelops it. It immediately attempts to flee in its circular flight pattern, only to be caught in a second proton stream halfway through its revolution. Scott and Phil have the spirit entangled. They guide the struggler over to one of the perimeter ghost traps.

"Very good, very good," says Scott, "Remember Phil, don't cross the streams! Steady now, steady… Dr. Stantz, toss out one of the stomp pedals to the trap."

Dr. Stantz rolls out the trap and tosses the foot pedal toward the other two Ghostbusters. After a quick announcement, Scott stomps on the pedal, opening the trap.

Phil and Scott guide the mean ghost, who is now struggling harder than ever, over to the laser field of the ghost trap. Once the spirit is in position, Scott stomps on the pedal again to close the trap. Both men shut off their proton beams and the ghost gets sucked down into the little box, struggling all the way. The beeping of a dial and a small puff of smoke signals that the little beast has been captured.

"That was awesome!" exclaims Phil.

"Now will someone PLEASE get me a towel?" asks Scott.

The three men help Mr. Wills to his feet and then negotiate the fees with him. They settle on three thousand dollars—credit of course. On top of that, the awestruck and appreciative owner promises them free drinks for a month for capturing the mean ghost, including one right then, as well as a towel. They all sit down and talk about the history of the place and all the spirits therein. Dr. Stantz takes notes during the whole conversation. Afterward, they exchange goodbyes and the Ghostbusters leave with the captured ghost. In the car the guys talk about their first bust.

"I'm really proud of you guys," says Dr. Stantz. "There was very little damage, the majority of it caused by the ghost rather than by your fire. That was almost as good as our first bust at the Sedgwick Hotel. Keep practicing and remember the tips that I've given you, and you'll do well at this."

Back at the firehouse, Scott deposits the ghost into their laser containment unit and then bids Dr. Ray Stantz goodbye so Phil can take him to the airport. Stantz leaves a paper of written advice for catching ghosts and for maintaining the business.


	3. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

The next month sees a spike in citywide paranormal activity, and an increase of fame and fortune for the two new Ghostbusters. In addition to catching some fairly famous Portland spooks, they also get a guest shot on a local morning talk show. Things are going quite well for them.

"…And our crazy ghost busting business is up and running. We've been really busy lately. The clients are too happy to pay us a lot of money. And the best thing is that all our gear works! Especially the car; the car is **_so_** cool!"

Scott is talking to his friend Daryn from the university anime club by phone. She is a little surprised at how rapidly he fires off words. It was decidedly unlike Scott to jabber on and on in their conversations. Most of their phone conversations barely lasted five minutes. This one is going on fifteen and the new Ghostbuster just keeps on talking. Daryn has to fight for any conversation she contributes.

"Well… that- THAT'S great that your new business is working out, regardless of what you do. And these ghosts, what do they look like? Are they filmy like in myth or are they slimy like in the movies or what?" asks Daryn.

"A little of both," states Scott. "There have been some that were bulbous and opaque, some filmy and translucent. Our first ghost left behind a little bit of 'slime' on the walls when it fled from us. The ghost itself was very stinky; something akin to old gym socks dipped in cement glue."

"Hmmm," says Daryn.

"If you ever wanted to drop by our firehouse for lunch or something, it's down off Seventh Avenue just a couple blocks east of the large thrift store; not that far a walk from your dorm room. You could finally meet my best buddy Phil," blabs Scott.

"Yes that would be okay. Well, I've got to go. I have to retrieve my clean laundry and then go to bed. My classes start early tomorrow. Oyasumi!" says Daryn.

"Oyasumi and sleep well," says Scott.

Daryn hangs up her phone and walks into the bathroom. She was quite happy to get out of her parents' home, as there was hardly ever any peace between them. What's more, she was sharing her dorm with her good friend Raiza. She still had debt to worry about, but life in general is much better than it had been. She is reflects on her fortune as she grabs her laundry basket, and does not notice the black void that has surfaced on the showerhead. Out of this blob extends pair of slender black, shadowy, zombie-like hands. These grotesque hands seemed to be reaching for her, to pull her into the black void. Daryn grabs her basket and walks out the door, just beyond the serpentine reach of the lunging hands.

Daryn walks casually out into the dorm hallway and heads to the elevator. A few seconds later a black shadow passes over the glass fire hose container. The young woman presses the elevator button and waits. The hallway still smells fresh and new but looks just a little impersonal and metallic. Just then the lights flicker a couple of times and she feels a strong breeze through the hallway. Daryn looks around uneasily and adjusts her sweatshirt. After thinking about the conversation with Scott and feeling the odd breeze in the hallway, she decides she's had enough of waiting and exits through the stairwell door. Just as she proceeds through the door, the elevator doors open and the same black shadowy hands, only now bigger, extend from inside the elevator and again try to grab her. The petite university student doesn't notice any of this and casually strolls down the stairs in thought. _'Daryn, you're just fooling yourself. There are no ghosts after you. If there were, you could smell them coming – old gym socks and cement glue – and then get away.'_ Halfway down the stairs, she notices a black figure slowly descending the staircase from the very top of the twelve-flight staircase. Each time the entity passes a level, the lights go out.

"OH SHIT!" Daryn screams and begins jogging down the stairs. The entity quickens its pace. She finds the thing gaining on her. She's now doing a flat-out wind sprint down the stairs. She can feel the fingertips of the figure right behind her, and bursts through the doorway out into the dorm lobby. The frightened resident expects the grip of the hands any second, but she looks behind only to find the thing gone and the stairwell still and quiet. There are random university students going about their personal business. She can't help but wonder if she imagined the whole ordeal after talking with Scott about ghosts. Perhaps her tired mind was just playing tricks on her.

She cautiously opens the door to the laundry room, and finds things standard and in order. From the laundry room window she can see the elevator area, and the elevator doors are out of her sight line but she can see the light from the elevator car when the door opens. As she's loading the laundry machine, she notices her roommate Raiza waiting for the elevator. The lobby has emptied and the two girls are the only people on the floor. Daryn goes to exit the laundry room to talk to her friend, and finds that the door will not open. The sense of fear immediately returns and she frantically twists the doorknob, fiddles with the lock, and bangs on the door, trying to get Raiza's attention. Raiza notices her roommate's expression of panic and diverts her attention. The elevator door opens and the same black bony hands, only now three times as large, grab Raiza and pull her, screaming and kicking, into the elevator. Daryn can only watch helplessly as the gigantic phantom hands pull her friend away. Then the door unlocks and all is normal again. Daryn calls Raiza's cell phone on the laundry room phone, and hears a hollow airy sound with a faint voice in the background that sounds like a cross between a siren singing and a cry for help, and then silence. Daryn has never been more terrified in her life than she is right at that moment. She almost cannot think clearly; but she remembers to call campus security and then Scott's cell phone.

The new Ghostbuster is sound asleep at the firehouse, when the familiar meowing of his cell phone snaps him out of sleep. Scott answers groggily, "Hello? Who… who is this… it's late…"

"Scott, Scott! Listen to me, something's happened to Raiza! I watched black phantom hands pull Raiza into the elevator!" rambles Daryn, almost hysterically. "Something chased me down the building's stairwell and had almost caught me before I got out to the lobby. Then the laundry room door unexplainably locked and it snatched her! I tried to call her cell phone but got void and a faint cry for help! My friend is gone and I have no idea what took her!"

By now, the paranormal investigator is sitting on the edge of his bed, wide-awake, trying to memorize the details of the conversation.

"Listen, I'll grab Phil and we'll come down to the dorm and investigate, okay? I'm not sure what the entity was but there's definitely something strange going on here. Stay there, but don't go back to your room. Stay in an open area; someplace where it can't corner you."

Scott rousts his buddy and teammate awake. "Hey Phil, I just got off the phone with Daryn. She said a strange creature chased her down the stairs and then locked her in the laundry room and snatched Raiza. We've got to go investigate! Come on!"

"Whaa… Damn it. I haven't slept well for four days now, and I was just settling into a good sleep," Phil said with a groan.

The two Ghostbusters slide down the building's fire pole into the lobby, open their lockers, and suit up. The firehouse doors fly open, and Ecto-A busts out into the cool night, sirens wailing.

Pulling up in front of the dorm with a screech of tires, the two Ghostbusters get out and grab their gear from the trunk. They wander into the lobby and are greeted by Daryn, who is surprisingly composed, almost catatonic in her stillness.

"So your roommate was snatched by something in the elevator, like you said on the phone. What exactly was it? Daryn… Uh, Daryn…" inquired Scott.

It was almost as if she'd gone brain dead. After several non sequitur minutes, she speaks and emotion wells up.

"My roommate… was taken," she states, trying to keep composure. "It started chasing me down the stairs, and… then it locked me in the laundry room... IT FUCKING TOOK HER RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY EYES!"

Scott and Phil look at each other, unsure how to comfort Scott's upset friend. But the wave of emotion is short and she quickly regains composure.

"Daryn," gently tried Scott. "Whatever it is will not attack you. We've got our weapons here if it shows up again, and these meters to track it. We're going to start checking things. You can wait in our car if you want."

"I'm going to go visit Ange over at her place. I called her right after I called you. I'll be fine there."

Scott and Phil watch Daryn exit out the door before turning around to face the dorm's elevators.

"Scott, I think we're in a little over our heads on this," cautions Phil. "We've been professionals only a few weeks. We did well on that tavern bust, but Dr. Stantz was there with us. And no apparition we've encountered so far has been powerful enough to kidnap someone. What if we find that thing and can't stop it?"

"Valid points, but who else can handle the problem? Now I recommend we do this systematically. Check the laundry room first with the electromagnetic frequency meter, then the thermograph, and then the PKE meter. I'll be a few feet over at the elevators checking things there. Then we'll do a sweep of the stairwell, trace a path up to her dorm room and interview the neighbors to see if they noticed anything unusual. Just like in Dr. Stantz's notes."

So the two spent the next hour and a half searching nooks and corners of the elevators, hallways, and dorm room, and talking to residents, only to come up empty. Not even so much as a cold spot. Exhausted, the two wander back to their car to find Daryn waiting there in the back seat.

"Well, what did you guys find?"

"That you have a nice pair of Harry Potter panties," Scott quips. "But nothing that even comes close to paranormal evidence."

"You dug around in my chest of drawers!"

"You _have_ Harry Potter panties? I was just joking around."

Daryn gives Scott the stink eye and Phil steps between them.

"Grow up you two," says Phil. "Let's head back to the firehouse and consult our demonology books and spirit catalogs. There's probably something that resembles the creature as you've described it."

"I _know_ I'm not going to be able to sleep in my place tonight, and I want to know as much about this thing as do you guys. How about if I stay at your headquarters tonight and we look through the spirit books?" suggests Daryn.

"I have no problem with that," states Phil. "And I _know_ you don't, Scott."

"Ixnay on the uggestionsay," whispers Scott.

That night at the firehouse, Scott brews a strong pot of coffee, and they stay up and read through the different books on demonology. By two-thirty in the morning, Scott and Phil are struggling to stay awake. "I'm going to hit the hay guys. There are a lot of jobs lined up for tomorrow, and I need all the sleep I can get," yawns Scott. Phil stays up a little longer but he too eventually expires, and has to go to bed.

The two Ghostbusters awake the next morning to find Daryn facedown in one of the books. Scott rousts her and wakes her up.

"Good morning sunshine! Coffee's on in the kitchen. Did you find anything of value in Spates Catalog, Tobin's Spirit Guide, Magicians, Martyrs, and Madmen, or any of the others?"

"Wha… n-no nothing," mumbles Daryn, waking up. "There was nothing in any of your books. I've got to get to school and don't have time for breakfast. Thanks for letting me spend the night."

She leaves out the firehouse doors in a hurry, and remarkably does not forget anything. Phil and Scott finish breakfast and load up Ecto-A in preparation for the day's work. While Phil is changing into his uniform, Scott sits down and types e-mail to Dr. Egon Spengler, the brain of the original Ghostbusters. It reads:

_The franchise out here in Portland is booming. There have been a whole lot of ghosts lately and we're kicking slime and making money. But there is one case on which we can't seem to get any leads. It concerns a friend of mine who was followed through the hallway of her dorm room, chased down the stairwell, and then locked in the laundry room and forced to watch as her roommate was abducted. My friend described the creature in question as a cloaked phantom, and then a pair of giant zombie-like arms. Any advice or information would be much appreciated. Keep on busting._

_Scott,  
Portland Ghostbusters_

Scott just finishes when Phil summons him, and once again Ecto-A busts out the garage doorway and speeds down the street with sirens roaring full-blast.

"What's the rundown on today's jobs?" asks Phil.

"The first one is at the KWJJ building downtown. The station manager is tired of an unseen phantom following him around and generally picking on him. And job number two: an antiques shop over on Ninety-second Avenue has reported an unseen malevolent inhuman spirit that pushes people, hides antiques, and generally makes a nuisance of itself. This shouldn't be too complicated. Beware of flying antiques."

Says Phil, "Our first month on the job and we're already dealing with multiple malevolent spirits. This job just keeps getting more fun by the day."


	4. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

The job at the KWJJ building is pretty standard. The most eventful part is the sheer repulsiveness of the stench that the ghost emits when sucked into the trap. It is so foul that Scott, known for his iron stomach, almost loses his breakfast in the middle of the station manager's office where they cornered the creature. And the large smoldering holes burned into the walls of meeting rooms on floors four, six, and seven.

While traveling to the next call, Scott mentions that he's got them scheduled for heavy firearms training at Fort Vancouver later in the afternoon, to help solidify their skill. Phil protests, but Scott counters with an accurate comparison of a full-stream proton gun to a fire-hose, and reminds him of the damage done so far.

The Ecto 1-A pulls up in front of the Antiques Corner shop, and the guys jump out and get their packs from the rear of the converted ambulance. They head toward the entrance of the building only to find the place locked tight.

"That's strange. The owner placed the call not an hour ago. Let me see if I can trace it and call him back…" says Scott, as they peer into the doors. He reaches into a pocket on his gun belt.

"LOOKOUT!" exclaims Phil as a Ming vase comes flying at them from inside the store, shattering the vase and the glass doors. Alarms go off everywhere. Scott just barely dodges another piece of flying pottery.

Over the ringing of the alarm, the same voice that placed the call was heard, only this time it was blipping in and out of pitch. Both Scott and Phil realize just what placed that call. They draw their neutrona wands and prepare for a fight. As they step in the doorway, three crystal lampshades spontaneously shatter, briefly startling the pair.

"I'd guess at least a class three, probably only a malignant vapor with a tendency toward poltergeist activity. Another one, two-thirty –"

Phil heeds the warning and sidesteps a javelined candelabrum. They both slide on their Ecto-visors. "Now where are you hiding, my pretty?" smarts Phil. Just then, he takes several weak shots to the head in the form of porcelain figurines, before turning and firing in the direction of the assault. His beam misses and shatters a gorgeous crystal glass set.

"M.I. Hummel would be rolling over in his grave if he knew about this!" quipped Scott. "There you are, you sonovabitch." Scott fires at a shadowy figure that appears on the visor like a tar skeleton with glowing yellow eyes. It narrowly dodges the blast, which ricochets off the wall into some very expensive looking Chinese pottery, breaking it into smithereens.

"We have to curb the damage. Negotiate it toward that suit of armor," says Scott, moving toward the armor. Phil fires near the skeletal vapor, forcing it toward the standing suit. Just then, Scott trips on purpose over the large broadsword attached to the suit. The ghost sees its chance to cripple the buster, and moves to topple the suit over on him sword-first. Scott fires at the shadowy ghost, forcing it upward into Phil's proton stream. The ghost struggles to get free, only to be entangled in a second stream from Scott's proton gun.

"Do you want to do the honors or shall I?" asks Phil.

"You take him." Phil rolls out the ghost trap and stomps on the foot pedal to open it. The two carefully negotiate the writhing shadowy skeleton into the trap's field. Phil then closes the trap and the beast is sucked down into the small box. The standard beep and smoke from the trap doors signal the end of the battle. The two Ghostbusters survey the damage to the antiques shop, staring open-mouthed at the mess. The whole place looks like ground zero. Various antiques are tipped over, there are several smoldering broken pieces of pottery and glass strewn about, the shop's curtains are in disarray, and there are faint traces of slime on the walls and on some antiques.

"Let's just call this one on-the-house," stammers Phil.

"Unh huh," mumbles Scott.

Back at headquarters, the guys deposit the two angry spirits into the containment unit before changing into plainclothes and heading out to Fort Vancouver with a pair of proton packs. They had left the afternoon free so that they could get in some weapon training at the military shooting range. Halfway through the session that honestly could be going better, Scott heads to the visitor center for a cold drink. Along the way, he calls Daryn on her cell.

"Hello, Daryn? Scott here. I looked in some more obscure spirit publications for the gigantic black blob with the corpse hands, and still had no luck. We just aren't finding anything. I checked the "Fortean Times", Copperfield's Anthology, and the Mulder Codex. We do have the New York office looking into the case as well. Why don't you stop by after school and we'll see what they found. I'll let you get back to your classes. See you later."

Scott just ends the call when he passes a Native American leaning against a nearby tree. "Wendigo." Scott looks around at the guy. The guy repeats, "Wendigo." He stands roughly five-eight, and is dressed from head to toe in traditional Tillamook tribal costume. The guy speaks again.

"I heard you talking about a large blob… black creature… with zombie hands. It is the first incarnation. My people call it 'Wendigo.' Born from fear of hunters who died lost in the wild many moons ago. It is not in your spirit books because it appears only once every two centuries. Loves the cold. It chooses a maiden of fair skin and pure blood. It bonds with her to resurrect. My people contained it not long ago. The eye of Wendigo is the key."

"That's a neat story," says Scott, as he turns back toward the gift shop. "What time's the show? Perhaps I'll come by--" He turns back and the man is nowhere in sight. Scott looks up and down the field before remembering his thirst and heading back toward the gift shop. While buying his iced tea he comments to the shop clerk at the register. "I don't know who that short Native American guy is, but you guys really got a talented actor for the reenactments."

The puzzled clerk says, "We haven't held any reenactments at Fort Vancouver for a few years. Not only that, but all the Native actors who've worked here over the years have stood at least six feet tall. You seem to have vaguely described the person in the portraits we sell. He's Simpson Wakonago, an advisor to Dr. McLoughlin during the early settlement days. He came originally from around Spirit Mountain. But he's been dead some two-hundred years."

Scott exits the gift shop and smiles coyly to himself, '_Spirit Mountain',_ and rejoins his partner at the shooting range. As he resumes target practice, Simpson's words echo in the back of his mind. Under the guidance of the military instructor, their aim and precision improve a little in the course of the afternoon.

On the trip home, Phil tunes into 1190 FM for the traffic report. The I-5 traffic is predictably bad, but the weather report is quite strange. The meteorologist says, "As weird as it sounds, colder temperatures are in the forecast and possibly even snow. The city has had snow as late as March, but actually there is a very good chance of snow that would set a new record. We didn't see it coming until only this morning. Tune into Northwest News Channel Eight this evening at six for more information."

"You think it has anything to do with Daryn's," asks Phil.

"NO. No, it's just weird Portland weather," snaps Scott, without faith.

"Yeah, you're right. Weird Portland weather; don't like the weather, wait five minutes," says Phil to himself.

Once again Simpson's words echo in Scott's mind. He decides to tell his partner.

"Phil, let me tell you about a strange encounter I had while walking to the gift shop. I spoke with the ghost of a two-hundred-some-odd-year-old Tillamook tribesman called Simpson Wakonago. And Simpson told me about this creature, Wendigo, and he made it sound exactly like the creature that snatched Raiza."

On the trip back to town, Scott calls Daryn on her cell and arranges for her to meet them at the firehouse. Back at headquarters, Scott checks his e-mail for a reply from Dr. Spengler at the New York office and finds this message:

_Scott, I'm pleased to hear that your franchise is a success. Your description of the creature that abducted your friend motivated both Stantz and myself to research it. Unfortunately our search also did not uncover any information on this creature. Even more unfortunately our office is also very busy, and neither of us can come to Portland to work more closely on the case. But my educated guess is that this creature is a Native American evil spirit, probably a Class Eight or higher. Stantz and I thought it would be a good idea to start checking with the tribes in the area. See if you can learn anything from within, even if it is just folklore. Feel free to write if you have any more questions._

_Sincerely,  
Egon Spengler, PhD_

Just then Daryn arrives at the firehouse. She brings with her three teriyaki dinners and so they eat and talk.

"Well as I said on the telephone, we didn't find out anything in the official books about your case," says Scott.

"Tell her about your strange encounter at Fort Vancouver," orders Phil.

"What about the strange encounter at Fort Vancouver?" asks Daryn.

"Well, we had cleared out the afternoon to get some weapons training at the military shooting range at Fort Vancouver," recounts Scott. "And over the course of the training I got thirsty. The nearest convenience store was inside the museum's gift shop, which required me to walk across the campus. Halfway there I encountered what I now believe to be the ghost of an old Native aide of Dr. McLoughlin. He described to me a phantom ghoul called 'Wendigo' that was banished by his people. His description of its first form matched very closely to the creature that you said chased you and abducted Raiza. He also said that it needed a maiden of, um, pure blood and fair skin to be reborn, immortal, unleash hell, and all that jazz. He also said it loved colder temperatures. Now under normal circumstances I would wonder about this. Except that Raiza is pureblooded Russian, the gift shop clerk had old portraits of the guy I spoke to, and the weather report predicts unusually cold temperatures and even snow on the way. And our data – the spike in psychokinetic energy – points to something big on the horizon in the near future."

"But I'm basically pureblooded," states Daryn.

"While there is most definitely pure culture, customs, and heritage, there is no such thing as pure Korean blood. I learned that from an article in an academic journal. I hate to break it to you, but your blood is about as pure as is our native language," explains Scott.

"Maybe the phantom sensed that too, and at the last minute got you out of the way in favor of your roommate," comments Phil.

"More likely it knew from the very beginning and made a half-hearted attempt to kill you so that you wouldn't tell anybody," reasons Scott.

"Great. So in addition to being biased against me because of my ethnicity, it wanted to kill me." A momentary expression of chagrin passes over Daryn's face. She continues, "So it sounds like this nasty thing that came after me and took Raiza is Wendigo. How can you guys stop it?"

"Well, I e-mailed the New York office early this morning, and got a recommendation from Dr. Egon Spengler to start checking with Native American tribes in the area. Since this ghost I spoke with was from the Tillamook tribe, I was going to take a drive out to Grand Ronde to see what I could learn."

Phil adds, "and in between the smaller jobs tomorrow, thank the Lord, I'll go search the city newspaper archives and see what I can dig up on this Wendigo."

"I have a little time between my classes tomorrow. I'll go to the university's library and see if I can find anything there," says Daryn.

"One more thing," she continues. "Teach me to use your equipment. I want to help you guys fight this Wendigo creature and rescue my friend."

"No. Out of the question," states Scott flatly. "The proton pack is a complicated piece of equipment, and we legally can't just bring you on board on a whim. Our tools take time to learn."

"But you learned them quickly enough," retorts Daryn.

"And in addition to having a finger on the pulse of the paranormal for many years before doing this job, we also studied the gear in-depth. Hell, we built all of it!" said Phil.

"If you want to help, research Wendigo and then get back to us tomorrow night," reasons Scott.

Daryn sighs. "All right."

"And now you've got to go. We've got to get to bed and get up early, like at three, to handle a spook that only manifests in the early morning hours. Thanks for dinner, and be careful. Call if any questions spring to mind or if anything weird starts happening in your dorm again," says Scott, while escorting her to the door.

After she leaves, Phil wastes no time heckling his partner. "I don't think your muscles bulged out enough, Superman."

"Aw, shaddup. If you liked her you'd try to appear in control of the situation and you know it."


	5. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

"Man, the traffic on this highway is unreal, even after morning rush hour!" Scott mutters to himself. The highway is Highway 18, leading from Portland to the Oregon Coast, and passing through Grand Ronde. The paranormalist had taken his own car and left Ecto-A with Phil. The slow pace of Tigard traffic allows Scott's mind to wander back to his encounter and the creature called Wendigo. _'What if this thing comes about and we're too late; what if all our gear is insufficient to stop it? I suppose we could bring a priest with us to perform an exorcism… The original New York office – the "pros" – almost didn't survive their first big test either. And if we get killed it won't even be as funny. Being killed by a giant marshmallow man is hilarious, not so much by a cold demon… I'm sorta' showing up cold turkey. What if no one in the tribal council wants to talk to a paranormal investigator, or worse, what if no one remembers legend of a creature called Wendigo? Yet, someone has to know something…'_ Right there in the car, Scott prays to God about the situation. Then he plays a tape. The song happens to be Judas Priest's "Night Crawler." Fitting. Eventually the traffic thins out and he reaches Grand Ronde before three o'clock.

The day is Wednesday and so the tribal council is meeting at five. That leaves Scott just enough time to get familiar with the town and pop into a few little shops and the casino. He uses the time well, and asks shop clerks, barbers, doctors, postal workers, librarians, teachers, and even the staff in the casino about a spirit called Wendigo. No one knows much, except that Wendigo was used in scary stories many of them were told as children, and that one police officer had a family dog named Wendigo. When the time comes for the meeting he heads over to city hall. He talks with the council elders and receives permission to be a guest at the meeting. For most of the meeting he listens quietly. Near the end of the meeting he is given time to present his case, which amuses some of the council members. But one elder is not amused at all. After the meeting, this man pulls Scott aside and introduces himself as Thomas Helms, a senior on the council. He mentions that his family knows of the legend of Wendigo very well.

"My lineage is that of the tribal healers; the shamans. A story has been passed down that my forefathers were responsible for warding off the creature known as Wendigo. When you began talking, I wasn't sure at all that the creature you spoke of was Wendigo. But the more you described your case the more it sounded like an accurate identification of the demon. But this thing has never before attacked white people, only folks like myself. My forefathers were able to contain it, and they left notes behind. Unfortunately time and weather have not been kind to those notes. I am slightly psychic and sensed that something big was on the way. I alerted the churches in town and expected an attack that has not come, yet I still can't shake the bad vibes I have."

Mr. Helms explains everything he knows about Wendigo over dinner. Afterward, Scott thanks him and give him a business card. Scott doesn't leave Grand Ronde until almost seven o'clock. Thankfully traffic is light back home and Scott gets home before nine. The sight of snow in the higher elevations of the Coast Mountain Range is alarming. Equally shocking is the rapid onset of colder temperatures. But the biggest shock is the snow beginning to fall in the city of Portland when he gets back home. He finds Phil and Daryn waiting for him.

Daryn starts, "I checked over the university library's database two or three times and came up empty."

"Dude, I found nothing at all, and I checked both local newspapers," says Phil. "You come up with anything?"

"You bet I did," starts Scott. "I was able to meet with a tribal council elder whose lineage included shamans. He showed me notes that his forefathers had left behind. And he told me a lot. He said,

'Wendigo only comes around once every two hundred years to the Pacific Northwest. It is strongly attracted to high concentrations of bad spirit aura, or negative vibes. Its first form is a big black amorphous blob with skeletal hands. In this form it chooses a bride of "fair skin" and "pure blood" in order to bond with her at the chosen time—the beginning of the new moon, and experience rebirth. The closer the occasion draws, the colder and snowier the weather becomes. On the eve of the chosen day, a day of a full moon, after the sunset, the dead begin rising from their graves and attacking people. By then the snow is several feet deep, making it difficult to get around. Anyone who dies in the frigid weather becomes a zombie. When the clock strikes midnight, Wendigo absorbs the last of the life essence of its bride, and comes back as a thirty-foot tall white demon with a star in the middle of its forehead. Legend states that in this form the demon is invincible. The only decipherable hint of the ancestors' notes was that burning the eye of Wendigo will expose its heart; only then will it be vulnerable.'

When is the next full moon?"

"It's tonight," states Daryn.

"Then by my watch we have a little over three hours to figure out where this thing is manifesting and destroy it," says Phil.

A knock at the door interrupts their proceedings. A short, stocky man in a fedora and brown jacket barges in, accompanied by two burly police officers.

"Hello, gentlemen – and lady. I am Detective Frank Moose of the Portland Police Bureau of Kidnapping Investigations. And you all are under arrest on suspicion of the kidnapping of one Raiza Trebenov."

"Sonovabitch," sighs Phil.


	6. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

Scott, Phil and Daryn are waiting in a holding cell at the police station downtown. Since she is not yet a full adult, her parents are called to come bail her out. They chide her; warning her to stay away from the Ghostbusters, alternately calling them scam artists and demon callers. They also yell at her about having to come all the way from Aloha in the cold weather. Of course, they don't listen to a word she says about her paranormal experience. They drop her off at the dorm and demand that she stays there the whole night. Up in her room, she fumes around trying to hold back tears.

Back at the police station, the Ghostbusters are interrogated by Detective Moose.

"Okay boys," starts the hard-boiled detective, "Now we have a lot of witnesses that say they saw you two poking around the dormitory on the night that Miss Trebenov disappeared. Now in fifteen years on the force I have never seen a ghost and don't believe in them, so why don't you tell me what really happened to her?"

"It happened like this: On the night of Raiza's disappearance, I get a call around three in the morning from Daryn. She's absolutely hysterical, and tells me that her roommate was kidnapped by something decidedly not human. So we show up, and she tells us that a paranormal entity chased her down the building's stairwell and then locked her in the laundry room and kidnapped Raiza right in front of her eyes. My partner and I did some research on this thing. It is a Native American demon called Wendigo. It causes extreme, unseasonably cold weather right before it manifests. We're wasting valuable time here, numb-nuts. This thing is going to be reborn tonight and Armageddon with it."

"NOW LISTEN UP ASSHOLES," roars the detective, "I have had enough of this ghost business. There's no such thing. You either tell me what you did with Miss Trebenov or I'll make sure your joke of a business is permanently shut down in addition to bringing you up on criminal charges."

"We've told you what we know." Both Scott and Phil sit there stone-faced.

"You know what, you guys have pissed me off. I'm going to go file some paperwork and cool down. You guys had damn well better be ready to talk by the time I get back, or, so help me GOD, I will rip you guys new ones! Officer, escort these two bullshit artists back to their holding cell."

By now heavy snowfall has descended from the higher elevations into the valley floor. It is beginning to pile up in the city limits. In graveyards around the city, decaying hands pop out of the ground and start to pull their corpses up from the graves. Back in the holding cell, Scott and Phil are able to watch the KOTK special news report about the corpses that are walking around all over town and attacking people. In another few minutes, the Emergency Alert System comes on, warning of a major blizzard on the way and advising people to stay in their homes. Near the end of the emergency broadcast, the television picture goes to static snow. Phil and Scott exchange fearful glances.

"Damn it! You tried to tell that dumb flatfoot what was happening! The evidence is piling up and still he won't listen. Only we can stop this thing and we're stuck here. By that clock over there we've got roughly two hours until the end of the world as we know it," fumes Phil.

Back at the dormitory, Daryn is thinking over things. _'This happens time and again. My parents always think they're right and never listen to me. I've had enough! I'm going to the Ghostbusters headquarters, whether or not they are there. I'll walk if I have to, and I'll bust down their fucking door if I have to. I'm going to save my friend.' _

She hears a thump and a loud scream from the hallway. When she goes to check, she spies a neighbor struggling to get away from a bluish-tinted walking corpse. The thing is gnawing on her arm, spurting blood everywhere. Daryn runs back into her room and slams the door. _'Well this is going to make things a little more difficult.' _She peers out her window to see cars stalled in the street and various people trying to run from the zombie corpses in the several feet of snow. Most are not having any luck, and there are several streaks of crimson trailing across the frozen white. She bundles up in winter clothing and decides to bring along her floor lamp to fight off the zombies. She runs out in the hallway, smacking away a few zombies, and dashes down the stairwell. As she exits the dormitory building, the wintery chaos stuns her: cars are tipped, building windows and doors are smashed in, people are eviscerated, bluish zombies are walking around, there are blood stains everywhere. There are even a few small fires. She takes a deep breath and starts cautiously running in the direction of the Hawthorne Bridge.

Back in the holding cell, Scott and Phil are alarmed to see Detective Moose again. They are alarmed because the policeman is missing his right arm and there is a big hole in his side where his appendix should have been. His skin has turned a bluish tint. The security officer in the room screams when he sees Moose and a couple other zombies, and tries to load his shotgun. He still has the cell keys in his hand. Both imprisoned Ghostbusters try shouting at him to toss over the keys, but he's so petrified he doesn't hear them.

"Well, it looks like we're going to die before we can witness the end of the world as we know it," quips Phil.

"We need help," says Scott. "Please pray with me: 'Heavenly Father, this job has been an awesome opportunity for us and a lot of fun. Thank you for it. I know you have been using us to bring good to the world. Right now, we're in quite a jam. We need your help and your guidance to get through this. If it is your will, show us a way out of here and back to the firehouse. I pray that you will continue to use us as your hands and your feet in our unusual career. In Jesus' name, amen.'"

Both prisoners look up to see the keys and shotgun go flying out of his grip, as the zombies rip open his neck and start engorging themselves on his esophagus. The keys land right next to the cell bars, and the shotgun lands a few feet away. Scott and Phil exchange a quick glance of relief. "Thanks God!" says Phil quickly, before grabbing the keys and unlocking the cell door. Scott quickly grabs the shotgun and checks the barrel. It is loaded.

"Now remember what George Romero taught us about zombie killing," quips Scott.

"Always aim for the head," retorts Phil.

"You got it." Scott fires right between the eyes of the nearest zombie. The shot connects, splattering corpse brains everywhere. The creature drops dead. Scott shoots the second and third zombies while Phil grabs a revolver and ammunition off the fallen guard's belt. As Phil fiddles with the belt, a cold hand grabs his arm, and the brand new zombie moves to bite him. Phil pistol-whips the zombie until it lets go and they both head for the exit.

"Wait. Before we leave it would be a good idea if we find some rounds for this shotgun."

"But we don't have time to run to ammo storage," Phil informs his partner by pointing to a clock. "You'll just have to be conservative."

Phil and Scott exit the downtown police station with a revolver with three spare clips and a shotgun with fifteen rounds.

Only a few blocks away, Daryn continues dodging the approaching hordes of zombies. Though winded, she knows she has to keep moving through the deep and difficult snow. Her pace has slowed considerably as she reaches the Hawthorne Bridge. Now there seems to be a whole army of walking dead trailing behind her. Daryn steps onto the metal bridge only to fall on her face. The snow is thin on the bridge, but the whole thing has iced over. She squirms her way over to the bridge handrail, and tries to use it for leverage with only one hand. Her pace has slowed to a crawl and the zombie army is catching up to her. She looks back to see them only a few paces behind her. With reluctance she drops the lamp and starts pulling herself along with both hands.

The Ghostbusters are having problems of their own negotiating the deep snow. They have been really conservative with their ammunition, shooting only when there is no quick way to evade the zombies and more frequently with Phil's handgun than Scott's shotgun. But it has taken at least two shots with the handgun to stop each zombie, and sometimes there was no choice but to use the shotgun. By the time they get to the Hawthorne Bridge, the handgun is almost out of ammunition and the shotgun is empty.

A rear glance shows only a few stray zombies following them. Phil also looks up at apartment windows, and sees a few worried people watching the action down below. Thankfully there are still people left alive. The two paranormal specialists pull themselves along the icy bridge using the railing.

Daryn arrives at the firehouse and finds the lights off and the building locked. With zombies still in pursuit, she runs around the building trying to find a quick way in the large stone building. The ground level windows are too small to climb into, and there is nothing around to stand on to get up to the second level windows. The zombie army is only a half block away as she dashes back around and tries pounding on the heavy iron doors and ringing the doorbell. Perhaps they are inside and just don't know she's out there. No reply. The zombies are almost upon her, and a sudden sense of hopelessness washes over her. She sits down on the curb near the doors, realizing there's probably no point in fighting now.

"Daryn!" She looks up to see Scott and Phil on the opposite end of the zombie army. "Get up! Run around! Climb that fence! Stay away from them!"

Phil fires the last of his rounds at the zombies, while Scott bashes their heads with his empty shotgun. They cut down about half the zombie force before the creatures abandon their pursuit of Daryn and come after the Ghostbusters. The pair lead them back from the firehouse some distance and then run a fancy figure eight, jumping on top of the snow-buried cars to get away. They rejoin Daryn in front of the firehouse.

"Great, now unlock the door before the zombies reach us again!" pressures Daryn.

"Oh shit," says Phil, with hope draining from his voice. "They are still at the Police Station, with our other stuff. There's no other way inside the building. Unless you happen to have a large tank sitting around somewhere, we can forget about busting down those heavy iron doors. And we had a special lock installed that can't be picked with normal tools."

"Wait! I just remembered I keep a spare set of firehouse keys in the glove box of my car. But my car keys are at the station as well," says Scott.

They look down the street to see zombies only a quarter of a block away.

"Give me the shotgun," commands Daryn. She steps over to the passenger side of the small Escort.

"What are you going to do to my car? Are you going to do what I… Please don't… I'm sure one of us can pick the--"

With a moan from Scott, she smashes the passenger window open with the butt of the shotgun and reaches into the glove box for the keys. She turns around to the icy grip of a zombie. Scott and Phil immediately lunge forward and start punching, pistol-whipping, and throwing down the undead attackers. It works briefly, but the zombies get right back up and continue their assault. Daryn nearly has her left ear bitten, but Scott grabs the head of the zombie and throws the creature to the ground.

"Come on quick!" Scott shouts to Phil, who uses his large body mass to overpower and wiggle free from a trio of zombies that have grabbed him.

Daryn tosses Scott the keys and he unlocks the door. They all dash inside, just out of the icy grip of the zombies, and slam and lock the door behind them. The zombies futilely pound and scratch at the large iron doors. The three survivors slump down on the other side, exhausted and relieved.


	7. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

To cups of instant hot chocolate they sit down and think about possible locations of Wendigo's manifestation. Scott tries to find a news station on television but every channel just registers static snow. Phil points to the clock, "We have about an hour and ten minutes to find and stop it so come over here."

"Now, as I said before, Wendigo will manifest itself in a graveyard somewhere in higher elevations. Would anyone have an idea where there might be something like that?" asks Scott.

"I know at least one. I used to clean the mausoleum. It's the catholic cemetery up in the West Hills, near the intersection of Burnside Street and Barnes Road. It's a good bet Wendigo's manifesting there. It's up in the hills and out of the way. No one to poke around," informs Phil. "There is another one up on Mount Scott, but I think this one's higher."

"Okay, we'll look first in the West Hills," states Scott. "If you're wrong I seriously doubt we'll have time to get over to Mount Scott. Phil, I think we can leave most of the meters behind. Item checklist: Two Proton Packs, two Ghost Traps, and two Ecto Visors.

"Waitaminute. Two? You guys are _not_ leaving me here alone. Last time maybe there was a choice. But now you _need_ me. There's probably a larger army of zombies up in the cemetery. The odds are better with a third person. And I seriously doubt anyone's going to complain about legality at a time like this. I'm a quick learner. You can give me a crash course in the equipment on the way up there. DAMN IT, I'm coming with you!"

Phil sees the fire in her eyes and says, "you know, Scott, a third person there will only help our chances of stopping this thing, at least to fight off zombies."

Scott reluctantly says, "Okay, but _only_ to fight off zombies and help Raiza. Leave the demon to us."

"Agreed," chirps Daryn.

The zombies outside the door are puzzled by a loud mechanical roar from inside, and are smashed against the building by the huge iron doors as they fly open and Ecto-A roars out. "Watch this," says Scott to Daryn. Phil flips a lever and the wheels turn over and tank treads drop in their place. "It was a little special modification from the trust fund – sorry Phil – for offroading or really bad weather." Ecto-A tears down the street toward the West Hills. Any zombies that get in the path are bowled over and crushed by the large grill and heavy treads of the vicious vehicle.

Inside, Scott explains the important functions of the proton pack and how to use the pack's neutrona wand. Then he turns on the radio and tries to find a broadcasting station. Phil focuses entirely on driving. Ecto-A sprays snow behind as it speeds through the blanketed city. After minutes of searching, Scott finds a remote station and listens to the broadcaster:

"…_And ever since this insanity began, no one's seen hide or hair of the Ghostbusters. If you're still out there, I speak for the whole City of Portland, best of luck in stopping this disaster. We're all counting on you. This is KRUK 1750 AM and we will continue to bring you what few news updates we can receive as long as we can…"_

Along the way, they see a number of overturned military vehicles and several fallen soldiers, most of whom have become zombies themselves. The other soldiers are too busy fighting off the hordes of undead to accompany the speeding white ambulance into the hills. They travel up Burnside Street and wind around through the hills to the tunnel just outside the cemetery grounds. Except for the periodic streetlights, the whole area is dark and eerily silent. The tunnel entrance has so much snow that it is impossible to get a large Cadillac through it. The Ghostbusters have to go on foot from here.

They get out of the car and go into the trunk for their gear. All three power up their proton packs. There is the same eerie silence and though the white snow on the ground reflects light in the distance there is only darkness. Daryn looks around cautiously. Between the dark silhouettes of the trees she can see homes. Where there are homes there are people. Where there were people, there are probably zombies. Phil can feel things watching them through the trees. Scott takes a step toward the tunnel, when a zombie jumps down from the hill above the tunnel onto him. Without missing a beat, Phil lunges forward, pulls the thing off Scott and pushes it away. Daryn and he fire at it. The icy zombie explodes into a mess of viscera and flame when hit with the concentrated atomic fire of the proton streams.

"Thanks," says Scott, silently chiding himself to be more careful.

After they climb through the tunnel, Daryn stops right outside. She turns to them and says, "Scott, Phil, thanks. For letting me come, for even surviving to be here right now, for getting back to the firehouse in time. Be safe." She glomps both of them and continues cautiously. Both guys stand there stunned for a minute.

"I think she likes me," states Phil.

"What? No she doesn't! She likes me," Scott fires back.

"She hugged me first," Phil argues.

"She hugged me harder," Scott replies.

The two are facing each other now and arguing.

"She likes me better."

"No she likes me more!"

"She likes me."

"She likes MORE ZOMBIES!" Scott shouts, pointing.

"More zombies, wha—YAAH!" Phil notices and quickly ducks away from the icy grip of another two zombies while Scott fries them both. They catch up to Daryn, who is busy firing at zombies here and there. All three get up to the road between the two areas of the catholic cemetery. The sights alarm the Ghostbusters a little.

Up on the left hill is a huge pulsating black blob. Behind the cemetery, four purple-white lightning bolts shoot down from the cloudy sky into each of the radio antennae on the nearby power station. On top of the right cemetery hill, there is a small stone gazebo under which Raiza is sitting on a throne of ice. An eerie pale blue light emanates off her. She is dressed in light blue and white, a gown of ice and fabric. An icy crown rests upon her head. She appears slumped over on her throne. Daryn immediately runs up the right hill. Scott shouts a warning.

"Daryn, it's a terrible idea to run right up to her! She's probably possessed!"

Daryn almost reaches Raiza before the message sinks in and she starts to back slowly away. But the Ice Queen's attention has been drawn. Daryn realizes she's not looking at her roommate as the Ice Queen begins levitating. She fires icy electric beams from her fingers, knocking Daryn back several feet. She lands in deep snow. The Ice Queen goes to turn her ice on Scott and Phil, who immediately exchange glances, and roll out of the way of the electrical pulse. They each fire back and miss. They reunite as the Ice Queen hovers right over them. Her hands begin pulsating with icy electricity. The two Ghostbusters increase their gun beam settings to full and fire at the Ice Queen's hands as she fires out a concentrated beam. The meeting of her beams and theirs results in a loud crackle that knocks her out of the air and back on her icy throne. She slumps over. Phil dashes up to check for a pulse on Raiza's neck while Scott fries another zombie near Daryn and dashes over to her. Daryn groans as Scott helps her to her feet. "First rule of ghost busting," Scott advises, "is to never go alone." Daryn nods as she shakes off the stupor.

"Raiza's heart is beating and she's breathing just fine," shouts Phil down to Scott and Daryn. Both feel relief upon hearing the news, and do not notice the four icy zombies about to grab them. Fortunately Phil does see the four undead minions and shouts, "Get down!" as he fires and melts all of them. Phil rejoins the party.

"Have you noticed that since that small altercation with sleeping beauty up there, the zombie numbers have increased by a lot?" asks Phil. "I'd guess it figured out people were here." The trio then shoots a few more zombies before running up the left hill. Just then, they feel a tremendous rumbling in the ground. They drop to their knees as the whole mountain shakes from trembling akin to an eight-magnitude earthquake. Then they hear a sinister, otherworldly voice. It says:

"Fools! You have just gotten yourselves an early annihilation by coming here. For far too long people have corrupted the natural existence of this planet with their garbage and have upset its harmony by fighting over its land. I am the almighty Wendigo, destined to rule all, and I will soon free this planet from the scourge that is humanity. I will start with you."

The Ghostbusters stare in horror as the big amorphous blob on the opposite hill starts taking shape. Four purple lightening beams shoot into it from the metal antennae of the nearby power station. One vaporous pale blue beam pours into the blob from the unconscious Ice Queen. The black blob morphs into a twenty-foot-tall cicada ice robot with a glowing purple star on its forehead. It begins to stomp toward the surprised exterminators.

"You know, I think he's serious," quips Phil.

"We'd better get serious, because we have exactly eight minutes to defeat this thing," chides Daryn, looking at her watch.

"Remember, team, fire at the eyes!" shouts Scott.

Wendigo stomps toward them, firing electrical charges from its claws. The Ghostbusters fire back on it and scramble for cover behind gravestones. Their proton fire does little more than slowing the beast as it calls up more icy zombies. They all but ignore the zombies as they keep scrambling from gravestone to gravestone, to avoid getting squashed by Wendigo. By now there are so many zombies that two take the place of every fallen one. The Ghostbusters are using all their energy just trying to keep away from the zombie hordes and the stomping of the humongous ice robot.

'_Here's your humorous death. The bug is going to step on us._' Scott shouts to the others, "I don't get it. Mr. Helms said that the key to beating Wendigo is to burn its eyes to expose its heart. It's not working."

A trio of zombies grabs Scott just then. Wendigo fires his electricity beam and hits the Ghostbuster right square in the chest, burning off the zombies and knocking him back twenty feet in the air against a tree. He screams in pain and falls to the ground.

"Scott!" Daryn shouts, and runs over to her fallen teammate.

Phil pauses for just a minute in his hiding spot and looks over at the large power antennae behind the graveyard. He then leaps up, dashes over, and fires at a section where the purple charges seem to be converging. The big beast staggers back and the zombie army closing in on Scott and Daryn instantly turns toward the lone Ghostbuster. Scott regains consciousness and looks over at his friend firing at the power station. _'I'm such a moron. Not "eyes" but "eye," like a hurricane.' _"Go help Phil! I feel fine!" Scott lies. He groans as he gets to his feet. Three ribs are cracked. The pain will have to wait. He fires on the zombies approaching Phil and cuts a path for Daryn, also shooting zombies before concentrating her proton stream at Wendigo's eye. The proton streams are starting to halt the flow of the purple electricity. The beast drops to one knee in pain, and calls down more of the Ice Queen's pale blue electricity into itself. Its chest cavity is just beginning to open. Scott uses the opportunity to close in, take out several zombies, and fire at Wendigo's eye.

"Damn it," curses Phil. "Even with all three of us, there still isn't enough atomic energy to neutralize the electricity! We'll have to cross the streams."

"You know what will probably happen if we cross the streams. Dr. Stantz went over it with us. The team in New York survived by sheer fortune. I doubt we'll be so lucky," snaps Scott.

Daryn points to the approaching zombies and the recharged bug behemoth. "If you have a better idea at this point we're all ears."

"**_Fine_**," shouts Scott. "But if we wake up dead I'm gonna' be really pissed off!"

They slowly move closer together, uniting the proton streams. Their streams connect and overload atomic energy into the electric eye. The recoil threatens to launch them all in different directions. A rumbling thunder drops the zombies for good. Pale blue electricity stops flowing out of the Ice Queen. The bug behemoth lands on its ass. Scott glances over his shoulder in the direction of the padded thump and sees the beast sitting there with its chest cavity wide open and its heart exposed. He withdraws his stream from the proton field and turns it on Wendigo's chest. The creature howls in pain and begins to shrink as positrons wash over its heart. Wendigo continues shrinking until the four purple lightening beams retract from it and shoot back up into outer space, the creature itself explodes, and the eye explodes--sending waves of electricity toward the Ghostbusters, sending them once again behind gravestones for cover. The collapsing eye sucks in all the ice and snow. After a few seconds, all is calm and quiet.

Scott, Phil, and Daryn lay on the green grass behind the gravestones for what seems like eternity; each one unsure if the battle is over. Then Phil sits up.

"Scott, are you okay?"

"Yes." He holds his side and sits up. "Daryn, are you okay?"

"Uh-huh." She sits up and looks at her watch. The time is 12:01am. This particular cemetery overlooks the Tualatin valley. The trio stares down at the panorama of city lights for a few minutes. Then Daryn remembers Raiza and mentions. All three stand up and walk over to the opposite hill. Raiza awakens as Daryn reaches for her friend and roommate. She helps the stunned girl to her feet and supports her as she walks.

"Wha—happened?" She asks groggily. "Where am I?"

"You were kidnapped and possessed, but we rescued you and annihilated the monster that possessed you," replies Phil, supporting Razia on the opposite side.

"If it is okay with you, I know a pretty good neurologist and psychiatrist. We'd like to have you examined for any possible brain damage or mental trauma caused by this whole thing. And also I'd like to run a few quick painless tests on you at our headquarters. Is that okay?" asks Scott.

Raiza nods affirmatively and talks with Daryn about the events of the whole ordeal, as they all walk back to Ecto-A.

"One more thing," says Phil. "Would you like to have dinner sometime?"


	8. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

While traveling back to their headquarters, Scott listens to the radio broadcast thanking the Ghostbusters for stopping the bad weather and zombies, and declaring them heroes. Explaining that she didn't really have the time for such a job, and that her parents probably would not approve, she resigns but agrees to come visit during their off-hours once in a while. Raiza accepts Phil's dinner invitation, and they drop the two girls off at their dormitory before heading over the bridge and back home.

THE END

(reviews are much appreciated!)


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